


Does Your Warranty Cover This?

by ProneToRelapse



Series: The Thot Sent By CyberLife [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Sex Toys, Brief Wire Play, Butt Plugs, Comeplay, Connor loves it, Edgeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, Hank is an asshole, Humor, I guess???, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Smut, literally just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: When you get to Hank's age and acquire an insatiable android boyfriend, you learn never to waste an erection.





	Does Your Warranty Cover This?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meaiku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meaiku/gifts).



> This!!! Is All Meaiku's Fault!!! And i'm over here pretending i don't love every fucking second of it!!!

Hank nearly drops his coffee. It is eight-oh-four in the  _goddamn_ morning, it is a  _Sunday_ _._ And why is he awake at this god forsaken hour on the most holiest of days? Why is he standing in his kitchen with a death grip on the hands of his coffee mug, you ask?

All because of that fuckin’ angel-faced android that is actively out to  _murder him._

“What,” Hank says slowly, “the fuck did you just say?”

Connor smiles in the doorway. That stupid fucking smile that would fool anyone else into thinking that he’s just a really attractive guy with a heart of gold. Except Hank knows better. Quickly  _learned_  not to be lured in by that smile. Because that smile means Bad Things. 

“I was browsing through some websites and I thought it sounded fun,” Connor says like he hasn’t just verbally bitch slapped Hank’s brain out of his skull. 

“The bit before that,” Hank says. “The bit about installing kinky sex upgrades. That’s the bit I’m struggling with.”

“Oh,” Connor says mildly. “Yes, well, a new line of accessories has been made available. I ordered a few to try.”

Hank puts his coffee mug down. He knows better by know. Connor has the terrible habit of just  _saying things_ that no one should  _ever say_  when Hank is holding something that is varying degrees of breakable. The kitchen floor has seen more stains since Connor moved in than before. Turns out when Connor talks sex, Hank’s motor skills go to shit. 

Fucking androids. 

_Literally._

“And what do these upgrades  _do_  exactly?”

Connor’s stupid face brightens. Hank does  _not_  love that stupid face. At all. Not even a little bit. 

“Can I show you?” He asks, all hopeful wide eyes. “I’m quite interested in trying them out.”

“Connor, it’s not even nine AM yet.”

“I don’t see how that’s an issue.”

Hank groans. “I’m not even physically capable of getting a boner before at  _least_  eleven.”

Connor’s LED whirls. Yellow, yellow, blue. 

“Incorrect,” he says, because  _of fucking course._ “On Wednesday the sixteenth you woke up to get a drink of water at six-twenty-three AM and when you came back to bed, we had intercourse because you said I looked sexy when I was sleepy.”

“You did,” Hank says defensively. “Your hair was all messed up and my shirt was hanging off your shoulder. You looked pretty as a goddamn picture—  _That’s not the point and you know it._ ”

In Hank’s defence, Connor had looked downright edible. Whatever upgrades the androids who’d taken over CyberLife had gradually been rolling out, they were doing good and bad things for Hank’s well-being. 

Good because the updates are slowly humanising Connor. He can almost sleep now, and the stasis programme lets him dream. Leaving the stasis protocol takes his system a little while to catch up and load so he’s a bit dopey first thing when he wakes up. 

Bad because Connor looking sleepy-soft after stasis with his hair all messy and his eyes heavy-lidded is a pretty sure fire way to get Hank to half mast  _instantly._

“It  _is_  the point,” Connor says. “It is  _exactly_  the point. You are fully able to get an erection before eleven o’clock in the morning.”

Hank would very much like to stop having this conversation. He wonders how quickly Connor would be able to recover if he just… Wildly dabbed his way out of the conversation to lock himself in the bathroom. 

Except he’s not going to do that. His dick is twitching in his boxers because Connor is fucking right as always, and Hank is very much capable of popping a boner before eleven AM when Connor is involved. And because who the fuck is he kidding? Connor says he orders some sex upgrades to try out in the bedroom? Hank’s already so on board with the idea he’s practically the captain of the  _S.S. Let Me Fucking At You._

“Show me,” Hank says because he loves dying and being gay.

Connor  _beams._

Hank is  _so beyond fucked._

—

Connor puts a box on the bed. Discreet grey packaging, no information on it other than Connor’s name and address. Hank is both curious and ready to jump out the window at the first opportunity. Still, he sits on the bed, one leg tucked under him as Connor rips into the box, taking out two small items that Hank leans forward to inspect. 

The first is a small white disk. A little bigger than a quarter. Unassuming, not inherently sexual in any way. Hank immediately distrusts it on principle. 

The second is… Well, slightly more obvious. It’s a butt plug, at least it looks like it to Hank’s human eyes. Considerable size, flared base, but the top of it is ringed with what look like tiny connection ports. Hank reaches out to pick it up and get a better look. It’s weighty enough. 

“This goes where I think it goes, right?” He says, looking at Connor. 

“Yes, that device goes in my—“

“If you say  _anus_ , I’m gonna commit, I swear to god.”

“…It goes in my ass, Hank.”

Dear god, that is Not Better. 

“And this one?” Hank picks up the disk, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“That is an inhibitor,” Connor informs him. “It slots into a port in my back and prevents me from reaching orgasm.”

Oh, it’s…

“An android cock ring,” Hank chokes out. 

“Yes, that’s an apt description,” Connor says happily. “I thought it would be fun to try. Not that I have any complaints about our current sexual encounters. I just thought that you could stand to tease me a bit more. And you’re always complaining about how I’m trying to ‘ride you to death’ as you’re so adamant you can only come once in a twelve hour period.”

Alright, so maybe Hank is trying to work on shortening his refractory period. And maybe having an android who can come and get hard again in the time it takes to sneeze is wearing Hank out a little bit. 

He flips the disk like Connor does with his coin, catching it in his palm. 

Connor seems to have an idea of what he wants to do with these things. 

Hank might just have a better one. 

“Connor,” Hank says, pitching his voice lower. Connor’s entire body stiffens. Except he’s an android so it’s a little creepier than that. He goes deathly still except for the way his LED whirs yellow, yellow, yellow,  _red._

Hank complains about how whipped Connor has him. But Hank is starting to realise just how much of a hold he has over Connor. 

“Get on the bed,” Hank says. His tone leaves no room for argument and he doesn’t get one. Connor lunges into action, scrambling across the bed to settle against the headboard. The huge t-shirt he’s stolen off of hank to sleep in hangs off one pale freckled shoulder. It’s more enticing than any lingerie. 

Or… Maybe not. But that’s not a train of thought Hank can handle right now. 

Instead he gets to his feet, tossing the empty box on the floor and flipping the disk again. He holds it up so Connor can see it. 

“Can I install it?”

Connor’s LED pulses crimson. “Please,” he murmurs. 

Hank kneels beside him and Connor rolls so that Hank can hitch the t-shirt up, exposing the delicate curve of Connor’s back. He’s not quite sure why delicate comes to mind, he’s pretty sure Connor could throw him through a wall. 

That’s… That’s a weirdly nice image. 

Huh. 

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. 

Hank lifts the shirt and runs his fingertips over Connor’s spine. The android shivers and a small patch of synthetic skin melts away to reveal bone white chassis. There’s a small click and a little slot opens, just wide enough for the disk to slot in. Hank doesn’t insert it immediately. 

He’s all about foreplay, after all. 

He brushes his fingers over the slot and Connor honest to god  _moans_ , a low, needy sound that sends Hank from half-mast to firmly at attention. He plays with the slot a little, teasing and fiddling and Connor shudders under his touch. 

“Hank…” Connor breathes shakily. Hank can see the light hue of blue on his cheeks. 

He takes pity on him and slowly pushes the disk into place. It gives a dull click as it settles and the slot seals over. Connor’s LED flashes a quick series of yellow, red, yellow, before he sighs, signalling that the accessory has meshed with his systems. 

“Locked and loaded?” Hank can’t help teasing. 

“Primed and ready to go,” Connor answers with a hopelessly fond smile. Hank drops a kiss to his bare shoulder. 

“Roll over,” he says, sitting back. “I want you on your knees for this. 

Hank isn’t going to put the plug in right away. 

No use wasting a perfectly good erection while you can still get it up reliably. 

Connor is quick to obey, only ever in the bedroom like  _that’s_  a surprise, and settles onto his knees, chest down on the bed so his ass is pushed up invitingly. Hank slowly pushes the boxers down to his thighs, stroking his palm over Connor’s now bare ass. Connor hums happily, giving a little wiggle of his ass. 

Well, that’s more than enough of a request, isn’t it?

Hank smacks his left ass cheek, leaving a faint blue hand print behind. Connor jerks in surprise, giving a faint cry. 

“D-Do that again,” he gasps, fingers gripping the bed sheets. 

Hank hums. “Try again.”

“ _Please_ , Hank.”

“Mmmmm…”

“ _Please, Lieutenant. Please, spank me.”_

Oh, android-Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This kid is trying to  _murder_ him. 

Hank can’t think of a better way to go. 

He brings his hand down again, same side, bringing that blue flush back to pale skin. Connor whines, back arching, knuckles white as he tightens his grip on the sheets. 

“H-Hank, I—“ He swallows. Tries again. “I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m getting there,” Hank says, slapping his ass again. Connor’s moan is broken and unsteady. He paints such a pretty fucking picture like this, all needy moans and soft edges. He’s normally so put together, sharp as anything in his suit, focused and untouchable. 

Then Hank has him like this; a mess in their bed. 

Thank you, android-Jesus. 

Hank moves over so he’s centred behind Connor, palming at his ass and spreading him, pleased that Connor is already slick with want. He swipes his fingers through the wetness, circling Connor’s hole with the tip of one finger. Connor whines, thighs twitching. 

So goddamn pretty. 

Hank pushes a finger into him slowly, the force of Connor’s following shudder rippling up his arm. He pushes in up to the knuckle, curling his finger slowly. 

Connor  _keens._

He’s so responsive. Hank would almost think he was putting it on if his LED wasn’t pulsing a deep, warm red. The way his back arches and the pretty noises he makes are too genuine to be anything else. And the way he makes Hank feel. Young, wanted,  _desired._

Loved. 

It’s a heady thing. 

Hank twists and curls his finger as he pulls it out, Connor clenching down on it with a low whine that hitches into a moan as Hank pushes in a second alongside the first. He claws at the sheets, LED flashing wildly, and Hank twists his fingers, pushing deep, searching until—

The pads of his fingers just barely catch that hidden bundle of wires that drive Connor mad. 

Connor’s whole body jerks, a wavering moan ripping from his throat. 

“ _Please_ , Hank,” he pants. “Please, I need you,  _please…”_

As if Hank could ever say no to him. 

With quick, impatient movements, Hank shoves his own boxers down. He’s so hard it hurts, cock hanging thick and heavy between his legs as he shifts up higher on his knees, rubbing it in slow strokes over Connor’s hole. Connor whimpers, arching his hips up, trying to guide Hank into him. 

“Pretty desperate for a guy who can’t come right now,” Hank says, nudging the tip of his cock against Connor’s asshole. 

“Orgasm delay makes the eventual release more heightened,” Connor says. 

“That sentence was way too coherent. Obviously I’m not doing a good enough job.”

Hank pushes into him. One long, smooth thrust. 

Connor  _wails._

He doesn’t relent. It’s just past nine AM, he’s cranky, decaffeinated, and harder than goddamn steel. He bucks his hips, one hand splayed over Connor’s back, driving into him, panting hard. It’s tight and hot and  _so fucking good_  that Hank’s vision blurs. Beneath him, Connor is  _wrecked,_ panting _,_ moaning, a downright obscene picture of pleasure. His LED flickers frantically as he whines into the bedsheets, body jerking from the force of Hank’s thrusts. 

Hank almost forgets, almost reaches a hand round to stroke Connor to completion. Then he remembers and the spike of arousal through his gut prompts a particularly hard buck of his hips. 

A choked sob rips from Connor’s throat, back arching like a drawn bow. 

“ _Hank_ ,” he wails. “ _So good, I c-can’t— S-so deep, please, Hank, more…”_

He babbles and whines, static layering his tone, LED stuttering like he’s going to short circuit. Hank speeds up, panting roughly, sweat rolling down his temples, soaking his shirt, as he drives in harder, pleasure singing along his nerves like fire and ice all at once. 

It seizes his entire body when he comes, that sudden release of the tight coil in his abdomen, the sudden hollow feeling as his cock pulses and he spends inside Connor’s ass, sated and lethargic. He slowly pulls out and, before Connor can even attempt to recover, he’s pushing the plug into his loose hole, sealing his come inside. 

“ _H-Hank!”_  Connor chokes, gasping sharply. “W-What are you—“

“I’m not done,” Hank says, fighting a smile. “It’ll take me a bit to get hard again. But I’ve got to make the most of these accessories, right?” He gives the base of the plug a sharp tap and Connor whimpers. 

“H-how long have I got to keep it in?” Connor asks faintly. He tilts his head to catch Hank’s eyes. They’re glazed over and heavy-lidded. He bites his lip, face flushed a delicate blue. 

Hank is about to answer when Connor gives a sudden shout. 

“ _Oh fuck,”_ he wails, shuddering. “ _I-It’s not— Oh god!”_

“Connor?!” Hank demands, instantly attentive. He strokes a hand over his back, the other cupping his face softly. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Th-the plug,” Connor gasps. “I-It’s interfacing with my pleasure sensors.”

Is that…?

“What does that mean?” Hank asks, like he hasn’t just figured it out. 

“It’s stimulating my system,” Connor manages to say, rolling onto his back with a weak moan. “I-It’s designed to—  _ah!_ Induce orgasms through direct—  _hnnnn_ _._ S-System interaction.”

The plug in his ass is jacking off his pleasure systems constantly. Trying to get him to come all the while it’s inside him. 

But he  _can’t_  come at the moment. 

Oh, Hank has the most wonderful, depraved,  _brilliant_  idea. 

“Relax,” he says softly, stroking Connor’s face. “You still want this, right?”

“ _Yes,”_ he moans, leaning into Hank’s touch.

“Good,” says Hank, carefully reaching for his bedside drawer. “Think you can handle this for a little while before I let you come?”

“God, yes… Yes, Hank,  _please.”_

“Good boy,” Hank says and is rewarded with a ruined whimper. Slowly he lifts a pair of handcuffs out of his drawer. He’d stored a spare pair there because…

He’s optimistic. Sue him. 

Connor’s too blissed out to pay much attention as Hank guides his arms up to the headboard, only looking at Hank when he clicks the handcuffs into place. 

“Hank…”

“No?”

Connor tugs the handcuffs once to test them. His eyes somehow get even darker. 

“Yes,” he says, pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “God… Yes.”

Hank smiles and leans down to kiss him softly. Connor whines and tries to follow him when he pulls away, halting when the handcuffs stop him short. 

“I have a few things to do,” Hank lies. “Sumo needs a walk and I have a few bits to pick up. Call me if you need me, alright?”

“Hank?  _Hank?!”_

Hank smiles pleasantly. Oh man, this is  _too_  good. 

“Hank _, where are you going?_ ”

“Like I said, I’ve got some things to do. You’ll be okay, right?”

“Y-You’re going to leave me like this?”

Hank’s smile is downright  _cruel. “_ Yeah, I am.”

Connor swallows heavily. One word from him and he knows Hank will uncuff him, slip that disk out and get him off without a second thought. Hank also knows Connor won’t do that. Can see how hard he is, how his dick twitches at the thought of being left teetering on the edge of release for god knows how long. 

“Do it,” he says, LED pulsing. “Do it. Fuck.”

“Love you,” Hank grins. “See you later. Sumo! Walkies!”

The dog lets out an excited  _boof_. 

—

Hank almost feels guilty. 

_Almost._

He’d taken as long as he could stand to, occupying himself with a little shopping, a drink or two, just… Taking the day for himself. Relaxing. 

Like there isn’t a horny android writhing on his bed every second he’s away. 

He waits anxiously for the first two hours, Sumo chasing pigeons round the park while Hank stares at his phone, waiting for any message or phone call that says Connor can’t handle it and needs him to come home. 

Nothing happens. 

Not until the third hour when a text notification pops up. 

_I can still feel you inside me._

Great. GREAT. Connor’s fucking  _fine!_

Jesus Christ. 

So, Hank extends his outing a little bit. Picks up some new clothes, something a little different for dinner. Some treats and a new toy for Sumo. 

He stops by Jimmy’s and gets himself a beer while Sumo chews on his new toy under the table. 

All while trying not to think of the android thrashing around in pleasure on his bed. 

He fails. 

He thinks about it  _a lot._

When the sky darkens and Hank’s resolve finally crumbles, he heads home, Sumo worn out by the long outing. The moment he opens the door Sumo bounds over to his water bowl, slobbering everywhere. Hank toes off his shoes and listens. 

He can hear, muffled by the door but almost deafening all the same, Connor’s ragged panting, his breathless whines and whimpers. Hank swallows hard and quietly heads for the bedroom. 

He opens the door slowly, quietly. There he is. Just where he left him. Pretty as anything, pale in the low light of the sunset seeping in through the window, edges blurred with a soft orange glow. His face is flushed a deep, sapphire blue, nipples peaked and tight, stomach muscles or the android equivalent thereof bunching and twisting as he writhes. 

“H-Hank,” Connor gasps, back arching like a bow. He digs his heels into the mattress. “Hank, please,  _please_ , I c-can’t—“ He chokes, hips rocking, cock straining against his abdomen and leaking pale blue thirium pre-come. He shudders and whines and with a desperate upwards rock of his hips, Hank can see the base of the plug buried between his ass cheeks. 

“This was your idea,” Hank reminds him. How he manages to get words out with how dry his mouth has gotten is a miracle. He steps into the room, shrugging off his jacket. “Have you come yet?”

“N-no,” Connor moans. “Y-you know I haven’t.”

“I do,” Hank agrees, kneeling on the bed carefully. “How long has it been? Six hours? Seven?”

“E-Eight!” Connor cries, yanking against the handcuffs. “Eight, please, I can’t take anymore, let me come, Hank,  _please!_ ”

As if possessed, Hank slides a hand under Connor’s arched back. His fingers find smooth plastic, a click and shift beneath his fingertips and there’s the slot again. The probes it gently, tearing another choked moan from Connor’s lips, pushes, and the disk slips free into his palm. 

Three things happen simultaneously. 

Connor yanks the handcuffs so hard the headboard bends. 

His beautiful face seizes into a perfect mask of pain and pleasure, eyes clamped shut, mouth open, LED crackling  _redyellowredblueyellowyellowredredredredred._

And, with a soundless cry, Connor  _comes._ In thick, long ropes of pale blue, all over his own stomach and chest, cock twitching desperately as his release hits him like a freight train. 

Hank is absolutely floored, and it’s not even his orgasm. 

He unclips the handcuffs quickly, and Connor sags onto the bed, whining softly and twitching intermittently. Hank strokes his face gently, down over his neck, his ribs, his side, and Connor luxuriates in the attention, all but purring. 

“That,” Hank croaks, “was fucking beautiful.”

Connor hums sleepily. His LED slowly settles back to calm blue and Hank’s heart is so full of love he can’t take it. 

“Can you take the plug out?” Connor asks softly. “Please?”

Hank moves to obey immediately, easing the toy out of his ass as carefully as he can. What follows instantly is a flood of Hank’s come, leaking down Connor’s thighs. He swallows thickly, trying to will away his hardening cock through sheer will-power alone. 

“Hank,” Connor says, a low purr that  _never_  leads anywhere safe. “Are you ready to fuck me again now?”

Hank is  _beyond fucked._

God help him, he loves it. 

**Author's Note:**

> connor, edged for literally eight hours: you're going to fuck me again, right?  
> hank, dying: Why Do You Want Me Dead.


End file.
